Twice Shy
by tistrust
Summary: John has issues, psychological disorders suck. Spoilers from Outcast to Trio
1. Chapter 1

Twice Shy

AN: Set after Outcast, could be a one-shot. Convince me to continue?

Twice Shy

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_1982 – Earth_

He ran his right hand through his messy hair. He dropped his right arm back, next to his side and ran his left hand through his hair. He knew nothing would change how it looked, but the impulse to keep himself even was too strong to override this time.

He sighed, and sighed again. The desire had been calling to him all week and this was the first time he gave into it since moving to California.

"John!" his brother called through the bathroom door, "Hurry up! We're gonna be late."

John tugged on the hem of his uniform jacket twice and gave a final stare at his reflection.

He had to stop. The behavior was weird and he had to stop. But it felt so wrong not to do it.

He touched the doorknob with his left hand and twisted right. He let go. And he touched the doorknob with his right hand, twisting the handle left and opening the door. He walked through and made sure that it was his left hand that closed it.

This was why he didn't want to give in. Once he did, it was so hard to stop.

"Johnny!" his brother banged on the stair case.

"Coming!" he yelled back as he quickly ran down the thirteen steps and resisted the urge to step back up on the last step to go back down. He knew if he did, his brother might tell their father.

He brushed by his brother on the way out of the door and couldn't help but bang himself slightly against the doorway.

Today was their first day at Lincoln High and if he could keep from giving in too much, then he could at least pretend to be normal at school. Then again, even if things didn't work out, his dad would probably be stationed in a new city in about six months.

His brother turned into the senior parking lot and found a spot quickly.

"It's back." David muttered and turned off the engine, the keys clinging together lightly.

There was no point in hiding it, at least from his big brother. "Never really left," he shrugged and licked his lips. The tip of his tongue moving from right to left and then left to right.

David nodded tiredly and stuck his keys in his front pocket. "Come on; let's get this day over with."

He slipped a few times but he knew it could be so much worse. At least he had some control now. The best thing was to distract himself: listen to the teachers, make small talk, think about calculus, or smile at the pretty girl who wasn't paying attention. Do anything at all to keep from himself from switching the pencil from his right hand to his left.

He could do it. He had to do it.

He could keep to the small things. Running his left hand through his hair, then his right. Tugging at his jacket's hem once, twice. Licking his lips, right to left, then left to right. Opening his locker with his left hand and closing it with his right. Keep off the cracks in the hall ways. Four steps between the lines on the sidewalk. Left foot over the line, then the right. Chew his food on one side of his mouth, the next bite would go to the other side. Same with his sips of water. Bounce his right foot five times, then his left five times, repeat.

He wanted to touch the doorknobs with his left hand, then his right before he had to open it. He wanted to straighten up the posters on the wall. He wanted to pick up the papers that littered the hallways. He wanted to tuck in the labels that stuck out of t-shirts. He wanted to slam his locker shut, open it, and slam it shut again. He wanted to switch the pencil from his right hand to his left, but the writing would be illegible. Other people would notice and he didn't want that to happen.

By the time he got home the compulsions were practically driving him insane and he knew he was about to break soon.

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_Present – Atlantis _

Oh, god. He was doing so well before this.

He pulled off the blanket on his bed and folded it squarely. Leaving it on his table he pulled off the sheets and folded them as well before tossing them into what passed for a hamper.

He had kept to the little things, which were practically all he had now since Atlantis had automatic everythings.

Grabbing new sheets, he began to systematically remake his bed.

He had been able to ignore the impulses effortlessly ever since he had arrived in Atlantis.

Finishing off his bed he moved onto his desk. He straightened out a few papers unnecessarily and moved his box of paper clips against the wall.

He supposed that could have something to do with being in constant peril. But there were downtimes when he could feel the pull to tug on his jacket or to run his left hand through his hair, then his right. He found himself licking his lips once or twice, but he was pretty sure that most people found that act as a nervous tick. Which it essentially was, they just didn't know how deep it ran.

Six steps into his bathroom. Left foot in first means his right foot was going to be the first to leave. Four steps brought him in front of the mirror.

It was probably too much to hope for. These kinds of things don't just disappear, they go into hiding. Probably waiting for something like this to wake it up fully.

Staring at his reflection, he couldn't help but run his left hand through his hair, and then his right. He couldn't remember the times he had done this but he knew that this was the first since stepping through the gate.

So many deaths were on his hands but it was going home, finding out that his dad had passed on and seeing his brother and Nancy again that brought him to this. Maybe Earth was to blame for this.

He was about to wash his hands but made himself lower his hands to grip the sink.

No, he wouldn't fall into this. It would be so hard to stop as it was.

There was no way that he could let anyone find out. Too many depended on him here. Especially because of the new command.

He looked down to find his knuckles white, he breathed in and relaxed the death grip he had on the sink. He slowly lowered his hands to his side, stopped himself from tugging at his hem, and looked back at his reflection.

He had to ignore the compulsions. He could be strong, he can suppress them.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: All right so I kept going because this is my first SGA fic, and I don't know what the average is here. But mostly because of the reviews, thank you. Really, I blame you guys for somehow convincing me to stay up till three am to write.

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_1982 – Earth_

David watched as John clean. They had butlers and maids to do this but John needed this.

He wanted to help John but he didn't know what to do. He had mentioned John's problem to Dad, and all that got them was a huge rant on how 'inappropriate' it was to have a 'nut-job' in the family.

David knew that there was no help on that end; ever since their mom had…the only thing their dad was concerned about was keeping things normal. So normal it seemed as if they had ignored...it entirely.

But David knew the truth, his dad never got over his mom and John was getting worse.

His little brother continued vacuuming, going over each two foot area of carpet four times before he could move on to the next.

He hoped that John would stop soon, their dad wouldn't be happy to find him this way when he came home. If he came home. Sometimes it'd be days before they even saw their old man. Which wasn't a great thing, but if this was the way things had to be for a while then so be it. Dad had to get over Mom, and he was mourning the only way he could.

David was sure that in a little more time, his Dad would be back. Right now, his main concern was John.

John always had those little quirks but they were easy to ignore. Up until three months ago. Up until, their mom…

He knew a little about OCD, enough to know that John suffered from it but not enough to provide any help. Mom would have done something; she would have been able to convince Dad that John's problem didn't change anything and that a psychiatrist wouldn't turn John against him.

But Mom was gone. And it was at least another month before he could legally get John help.

He had asked his little brother once, when they were in a city where his compulsions got to the point that the kids at school had started to avoid him, what it felt like. John hadn't answered him until two days later. Telling him that it was like having spiders crawl all over you, that you had to brush them off, start running and stomping them to death, because that was only natural. But with the added twist that the spiders weren't actually there and you knew they weren't there. Except you could feel them, you could see them, and to ignore the impulse to run was almost impossible.

He would help when he could. He was going to get John to a psychiatrist and they would get through this together.

His little brother shut off the vacuum, turned it on again and flicked it off before pulling out the socket, plugging it in, and pulling it out again before putting it away.

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_Present - Atlantis _

Rodney stopped outside of John's quarters, fingering the chess board he brought with him. He'd never been great at the whole comfort thing but his best friend's dad just died so he supposed that he should at least be there.

He had no idea what he was going to say. His relationship with his own parents weren't anything to talk about. But they're still family, no matter what, they're the screwed up, annoying people who made you who you are today.

He knocked on the door before entering, hoping that John wouldn't knock his lights out for intruding.

The room looked sterile, which was saying something since it was normally meticulous. "John?"

Rodney placed the chess board on the bed and walked towards the bathroom. "John, are you in there?"

Rodney was about to walk into the bathroom to check but finally John answered.

"I'll be out in a sec."

Rodney paced back and forth. Keller had made the team promise to keep an eye on John. Not that she needed, but on her behalf Rodney was supposed to get John into the mess in two hours for dinner.

Nervously he wondered if John would appreciate a talk right now. Maybe he could just cajole him into playing some computer games or chess or something. A movie? Or he could volunteer to work out with him.

No, that was too far.

Should he apologize? He never understood the apology thing. It wasn't his fault that John's father is dead. But it did seem like the only thing he could say, or maybe the right thing. It didn't matter. He was here to have a chat with his friend, who hopefully won't hit him for trying to talk about stuff.

Rodney sat on the bed, wondering what was taking John so long in the bathroom. "Hey, John, you're taking up an incredible amount of my valuable time in there."

"Did something happen to your hair?" Rodney took out the chess board, dropped the cover onto the floor, and started to set it up, "Did you find your first gray hair?"

He began to set up John's side when the man finally decided to come out. John gave him a tight smile and stiffly walked over to sit on the other side of the game board, "Hey Rodney."

Rodney smiled back, "I was about to call Keller."

John licked his lips. Something was defiantly wrong.

Rodney sighed mentally. He had really hoped they could have skipped the whole heart to heart part, mostly because he didn't want to screw John up more than he already was, especially with his terrible advice. But it was the thought that counted; at least, he was pretty sure that it was the thought that counts.


	3. Chapter 3

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Crap, what was Rodney doing here?

It was probably too much to ask for. He had just needed a little more time. A little more time and he was sure that he could stick to the small stuff. But right now, he wasn't sure, he wasn't ready.

He stood up again. He needed a lollipop. It was something to concentrate on, something he could control; it was a distraction. He picked up the box, hoping Rodney just thought that he was uncomfortable at the moment.

He sat the box neatly on his desk and opened his bottom drawer. He always kept a stash ready. He took out a red one and threw out the wrapper.

"What's up?" John asked as he leaned against his desk, his hand behind him gripping the table in an almost violent way. He stuck the lollipop in his mouth as his eyes focused on the chess board, noticing that most of the pieces weren't exactly in the middle of their squares.

"Checking up on you," Rodney answered, clearly not bothered by the chess pieces, "you know that thing friends do for each other when something bad happens."

John almost snorted and forced himself to let go of his desk. "I'm fine." He said as he returned to the bed, he sat down cross legged against the headboard.

"Right," Rodney sarcasm drenched his words as he made his first move, "because I would be too if I found out my dad died just before I had to fight a replicator."

John made his move, his heart pounding as he wondered if Rodney would see anything off. His right hand was busy with the lollipop while his left tightly gripping his thigh so he wouldn't be tempted to touch the piece with his other hand, "Well, when you put it that way, of course it's gonna sound bad."

John risked a glance up at Rodney. No eye contact. Good, that might make things easier. Rodney wouldn't notice as much if he didn't look up. He just had to keep up the conversation. And he could do that. No sweat, nothing to worry about.

"You're okay, right?" Rodney asked, his eyes coming up to meet his for a second before returning to the game board. He made his move, "Because, as you've probably noticed, I'm not very good at making anyone feel better after an emotional crisis."

John made his next move with his left hand as his right went down to grip his thigh, "I'm not having an emotional crisis, Rodney." His words slightly obstructed by the candy, he completed his move and took out the lollipop, "I'm just taking some time to deal with things."

Switching would work. He could keep to this. A few more minutes and he would try using the same hand. It'd be hard but it's the only way. And of course he still had the lollipop.

"Oh, no Sheppard," Rodney chastened, "we're not letting you deal with this alone. We're going to help you through this."

"Who's this 'we' you're talking about?" John asked as Rodney finally made a move, "You got a mouse in your pocket?"

Maybe he shouldn't try now though. If he did and it didn't work, it might be a little hard to explain.

But he knew he couldn't keep going. It would be too hard to stop soon and chess was small. Small victories helped the most.

"A mouse? That's disgusting." Rodney gave him a glare, "Unsanitary."

John chuckled, he couldn't agree more. He made his move wondering if Rodney would notice that he was switching hands. Probably not. Normal people don't notice these things, so why should Rodney?

"So you're sure okay?" Rodney asked again, looking at John. "Because you don't sound great. Not that you should feel great with everything that just happened and all but I'm just saying that you know, if you need me… Like to talk or something… you know I'll-"

"Rodney, I know," John leveled his gaze with his friend's as his hands itched to move all the pieces so they were dead center, "and thanks."

Rodney nodded and smiled smugly, "Great, so I don't have to feel bad about beating you."

John shook his head, moving the candy from the left side of his mouth to the right, "In your dreams, Mckay."

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_1982 – Earth _

Lincoln High was a private school so if anything happened, like for example a sophomore rearranging all the desks in a classroom for no apparent reason or if the same sophomore randomly ripped down every poster and then put them all up again, alphabetically, then everyone at school heard about it. Especially since said sophomore was the only sophomore taking calculus as well as the only sophomore on the varsity track team.

John had been dodging looks all day.

It wasn't his fault that his history teacher had problems with keeping her desks in lines. Her room was a mess and the desks had been moving slightly left for the last three days.

He was really at the end of his rope and he was glad that it had happened during lunch when only the teacher had witnessed it along with an aide.

Apparently news spread fast.

But he was nervous. Today, he was going to see a shrink. He didn't want to but David had insisted. And he was doing this to see if it really did help any or if his dad was right and all head doctors were a waste of time and money.

He didn't want to talk to a stranger though. It made him uncomfortable. If he had to talk to someone, he'd rather talk to a friend but he moved around too much to have friends that were close enough. And after today's rumors he was pretty sure that people would be avoiding him for the next few days.

He ran his left hand through his hair, then his right. Looking over at his brother, he couldn't really blame the guy for wanting to help. But talking to a stranger wasn't going to do anything.

If the first session worked out, he'll keep coming. But if it didn't then, screw shrinks.

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AN: Here's your fix. Remember to give me mine, reviews…


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Thank you for reviews, they help me believe that this story is worth it to continue.

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David waited patiently in the waiting area, flipping disinterestedly through various magazines. John had been in the office for a little over twenty minutes now.

He hoped he was doing the right thing and that this would help. Maybe once John was back to his normal, weird self he could finally get some peace.

And he could work out his own issues with his mom's…

Damn, he still couldn't say it. Less than that, he couldn't even think it.

Fifteen minutes before John's hour was up, his little brother stormed through the office door. He slammed the office door closed, opened it and slammed it shut again before charging out of the open front door.

David jumped up, mostly in surprise, and offered an apologizing smile at the receptionist before rushing out the door.

"John!" David caught up, slowing his brother down with a hand at his shoulder, "Johnny, what happened?"

John roughly shrugged off David's hand and bumped himself against the wall purposely. John kept his eyes down and David could see that he was shaking a little, "I don't want to see another shrink in my life."

"John," David tried to get his brother to look at him, "Johnny, what's wrong?"

His brother stared at the floor for another moment before meeting David's eyes.

John's eyes were usually expressive; David knew exactly how to read them. But this time, John's eyes were cold. Unemotional, like dad's. Less like mom's. They had always been like mom's.

"I don't want to talk about it." John muttered and stabbed the elevator button twice with his right hand then repeated the motion with his left.

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_Present – Atlantis _

Teyla could tell that John was nervous. His body sung with tension, but she didn't know how to relieve any of it. They were trying to make it through dinner but it wasn't working very well. Eventually they finished their meal in comfortable silence, each of them knowing that there wasn't anything they could say that would make things easier for John.

Throughout the whole meal, Teyla had noticed that John kept doing odd things. Not exactly noteworthy, but he kept running his hands through his hair and bouncing his feet. Nervous behavior, except there was nothing to be nervous about. She quickly decided that she would drop in on him later tonight.

But something was wrong, something was making John tetchy. She had inquired John if he was all right, but after the third time, she was pretty sure he was going to snap at her. So she lay off.

A few hours later she found herself standing in front of John's door. She paused. She was usually much more sure of herself.

She knew that John needed someone right now. After the death of her own father she had been devastated. But then again from what she had heard from Rodney, John had not liked his father very much. Although that did not mean that John did not care.

She rang the bell and waited patiently for John to open up. She rubbed her belly as her baby started kicking. The door whooshed open and Teyla smiled up at John, her hand still absently stroking her stomach.

"Teyla," John greeted as if he had expected something of this nature and gestured inside, "come in, take a seat."

She inclined her head and took up his offer. She took a look around his room as John muttered something about getting her a drink. It was cleaner than normal.

John finally found a bottle of water and sat across from her at his small table. He set the water down and looked shyly at her. She smiled reassuringly.

He smiled lightly, "How are you?"

"I'm fine. And you?" Small talk was a funny thing to learn. It was like putting a little more time in before having to face everything head on.

"I'm good, I'm good." John muttered, staring down at his table. "And the baby?"

"He is also well," Teyla answered, she was starting to know this game well. She waited knowing that John would eventually break the quiet. It was part of the rules.

A moment passed with Teyla taking a few swallows of water as John tapped his fingers against the table top.

John was a private person but even he needed to get some things out in the open and whatever was on his mind now, was clearly eating him up. He may not have said anything to Rodney but she knew that John would tell at least the most important part of the problem. Because logically, as they went over in the past, if there was an emergency someone needed to know if he could handle it. Emotionally, he needed the release. And mentally, he needed to work things out. Teyla was sure that John only took the logical explanation for their exchanges.

"So, I suppose you're not leaving until I talk?" John kept his eyes on the table.

Teyla put her hand over John's, abruptly stopping the nervous tapping and waited until John would look at her before nodding with perceptive eyes.

A few more moments passed in silence.

"Rodney's gonna get a kick out of this," John sighed, his eyes still lowered, "I had OCD."

John paused and corrected himself, "I _have_ OCD and my best friend's a hypochondriac."

A slow smile spread across John's face but she knew there was nothing humorous in it. She kept quiet and made a mental note to question Keller later about OCD.

"I was never exactly diagnosed," John continued, "but all the signs were there."

Teyla took another sip of water, waiting patiently.

John sighed, "Anyway, long story short, I thought I was done with it. But after my dad's funeral and seeing my brother again…"

Teyla nodded, things falling into place just a little. But she still kept quiet, waiting for John to finish.

"But just give me some time." John finally looked at her, his face determined, "I'll get over it."

She wasn't sure if this was something that John should take on alone. But of course he was going to be too stubborn to ask for help. She almost sighed; she was just going to have to keep a more careful watch on him.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: If you like my story enough, I'm sorry about the short chapters. I'm debating which would be better, eight to ten paged chapters that come maybe once every two weeks (which is my norm) or two to three paged chapters that come every two days (which would probably be more steady). In the end it's the same.

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This was just a little blimp. Nothing more.

It was nothing like what he felt when he was younger. Then the pull had been so strong that he nearly drowned in it.

This time, it was just a little slip up. He got caught off guard and his control slipped. Which shouldn't happen because people here depended on him.

He had to maintain control, not only because it would keep him from losing himself but he had to keep people safe. People die here if he couldn't…

People die here when he could.

Damn it, he didn't want to think anymore.

He wanted all of it to go away. And it would, in a few days or weeks, it would be back to being manageable. But until then he had to live with this damn urge that seemed to hum in his blood, begging him to touch everything with each hand separately, to chew on alternating sides of his mouth, to count steps, to stay inside the lines, to keep himself _even_.

His eyes rested on the horizon, the bright pink of the raising sun reminding him that when he came out on the balcony the stars were shinning brightly. He hadn't been able to sleep for more than four hours.

He sighed and clenched his jaw as he turned around and went back inside. Maybe today if he kept himself busy enough he wouldn't be as tempted.

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_1982 – Earth _

God dammed stupid shrinks.

What in the hell made him think that he knew anything? Sure he probably had a degree that said he knew something but that didn't mean that the shrink knew anything about him.

"Johnny," his brother looked over from the driver's seat and interrupted his mental rant, "What happened in there?"

John stayed silent watching the trees pass by; he was done talking for the day. Stupid head doctor. There was no way for a stranger to know him in half an hour. Stupid pretentious bastard. He wasn't even professional, half the room had looked like it had been decimated with a tornado while the other half could have been from a medieval dungeon.

Then Mr.- no wait, of course Dr. I-know-more-than-you-ever-hope-to-imagine had to go and blame everything on his mother. How in any way was this his mother's fault?

"Johnny," his brother gave him a little pat on the knee as he continued driving home, "you're starting to scare me here."

John licked his lips, "Nothing happened, don't worry so much, Dave."

"You almost broke down a door when you left the office," David stated, sarcastically he paused and accused, "something happened."

John couldn't help but smile at the comment, he turned to face his brother and found that he was smiling back. Probably thinking it was funny that he almost destroyed private property.

"It's not a big deal," John started slowly as his right hand tapped a quick beat in his lap which quickly stopped when John gripped his hands together, "Kaplan's an asshole."

David motioned for him to continue with a wave.

"Said that mom's the problem before anything really happened," John sighed, "and then I told him mom's gone. And he goes off and starts talking about how women always leave responsibilities behind."

John swallowed as he got his emotions in check, "I told him mom's dead and that's when I walked out."

David nodded clumsily as he tuned into their street, "Sor-Sorry, we'll find a better doctor."

John groaned, "No, I don't want to see another shrink."

"You have to." David pulled into the driveway and stopped the car.

"No, I don't." John shot back as he quickly took off his seatbelt.

"How do you think you're gonna get better without help?"

John opened the car door as he fumed at his brother, "I don't care, I'm not seeing another stupid shrink."

"Johnny," David's hand clapped his shoulder just as he was about get out, "you can't do this on your own."


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Because yesterday's was way too short

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David dropped his head and rested his forehead against the steering wheel.

He was John's big brother, but he never felt like he could do the job right. John always did seem like he could handle himself in every situation. So over the years, David had taken less and less interest in his brother but this year… this time it seemed like the little boy, who crawled into bed with him when the monsters tapped on his windows, was back. He wasn't sure if he could be the guy who could keep the monsters away anymore.

He took the keys out of the ignition and got out of his car.

He hoped he could get through to his brother. There was no way for John to take this on by himself. Self help books can only get you so far.

He had frozen up when John had mentioned mom's… He didn't think John noticed but he was close to the edge and he was pretty sure that he didn't want to go over.

Especially not right now, not when his dad could barely hold it together while John was just plain lost. He was the last one left, he was the one picking up the pieces. Sometimes he wonders who's going to pick him up when he inevitably breaks. But he knew that time had not come, right now if he fell apart then he knew with certainty everything he had ever known was going to slip and tumble into an unknown void. If he could just hang on until his father gets a grip then perhaps things would turn out okay.

Mom had been everything. Through all the hospital visits and doctors and treatments he knew that if mom went then everything went. And he was right. John and dad were off the deep end and he was dangerously close.

But maybe he needed the plunge. At least they were dealing with her…passing. He could scarcely think it.

He locked his car and started towards the house but stopped dead.

Dad's car.

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_Present – Atlantis _

Ronon knew that there was something different with Sheppard. During their daily run, the guy hadn't said more than three words to him. Usually Sheppard had at least a little more to share. Some thoughts about an inane subject that he sometimes wasn't able to grasp or an odd update that he hadn't gotten word of yet.

Ronon had even tried a question but all that got him was a distracted one word response. It should have been nothing to worry about, but with Sheppard if you notice something off it meant that there was probably a significant problem.

He let the rest of the run continue in silence and when they got back, they went off towards their respective quarters.

An hour later they met up in the mess hall. Sheppard ate his average, so whatever the problem was, Ronon was sure it wasn't physical.

"You okay?" He grunted as he watched Sheppard pushed around the last of his cereal.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sheppard leaned back lazily, but Ronon could see slight tension that ran through him.

Ronon scoffed, "Like that's ever meant anything."

Sheppard scowled at him but continued to pick at his cereal as Ronon went back to his own meal. He couldn't say that any of his conversations with Sheppard were deep or meaningful; they were more like things that they instantly knew and understood.

He could tell Sheppard was nervous and tense but he didn't know why, which he's absolutely fine with. Because he was never good at talking and he knew that both McKay and Teyla would do enough digging for the whole team. He'd just wait and hear all about the emotional stuff later.

All he had to do was be there silently supportive. But just in case, he was going to watch Sheppard like a hawk.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Thanks for the reviews

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His whole team was against him. It's not like he's an idiot, he can tell when he was being watched, especially when his team comes to the unspoken agreement that he was not allowed to be alone.

He knew that Teyla hadn't said anything, mostly because she didn't have to. But those secret looks they were giving each other when they thought he wasn't looking were getting on his nerves.

Rodney kept bugging him in his room, Teyla accompanied him whenever he wanted to take a walk, and Ronon…well he was always in the gym, so that one probably didn't count as much.

When he finally gave them the slip, he quickly made his way to the only place where no one would even think to look for him: his office.

He wondered if there was anything actually in there. If he remembered correctly, there was at least a desk and maybe a chair. There was a memo while back, something about picking up his chair. He couldn't remember exactly, but no one would be there and that was good enough. He only needed a few moments to think or not think. Whichever one was easier.

Then he would head back to his quarters and let Rodney annoy the hell out of him because it was so much easier to ignore the hum when Rodney rambled on from one subject to another or when Teyla updated him about the baby and tried to get him to meditate or when Ronon beat the crap out of him while they trained.

He took one glance around the corridor and slid into his office.

A lonely desk sat in the middle of the room, which was only his office because he needed an 'official' place to work. Of course, his laptop was in his quarters, so he wouldn't be doing anything.

He sat atop his desk for a moment before lying down. He hadn't had really spoken to Teyla since his confession and she was probably going to want some sort of talk after his small disappearance. He knew Ronon might not know what was going on but Ronon would be curious, which meant extra attention. Rodney, on the other hand, was going to figure things out soon unless he changed his behavior. Knowing Rodney, the man probably had memorized the symptoms of most diseases as well as ailments, maladies, syndromes, infections, disorders and any other problem that could potentially endanger health.

He sighed; staring at his ceiling he realized that it was quite similar to the ceiling in the infirmary. Another reason to never use his office.

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_1982 – Earth _

John slammed the front door shut, opened it and slammed it again alternating hands throughout the process.

He didn't care that he couldn't fight this on his own. He would do it anyway. There was no chance in hell that he would go to a shrink for help.

He turned around swiftly only to fall back a little as he ran into his father. His dad reached out and steadied him. Shocked, John shook off his arm and gave a bewildered greeting, "Hey dad."

"I suppose you have a good reason to be slamming doors?" his dad asked sternly.

He shrugged, his previous anger dissipating for the moment, clouded with surprise and confusion at actually seeing and talking to his father. He was fairly sure that he hadn't said a word to the guy in about two weeks.

A few moments passed in uncomfortable silence as John thought over what he should tell him. The truth was completely out of the question, he recalled the day that David tried to tell their father about his problem getting worse with crystal clarity. He settled for a semi-truth and muttered lowly, "Something happened at school, I don't want to talk about it."

"Did you get suspended?" his dad inquired seriously, "that goes on your permanent record, you know."

"No," John answered sharply as he took a few backward steps towards the stairs.

"Expelled?"

"Why do you assume the worst?" John snapped, his anger cutting through.

"Because somebody has to be taking your future seriously and it's happened-"

"Yes, dad," John growled, trying to remain calm, "I remember what happened and if you had given me a chance to explain-"

"Explain?" his father all but shouted, "What's there to explain? You got expelled from one of the most prestigious schools in the country and embarrassed this family-"

John tugged on his hem twice as he rolled his eyes at his father and started for the stairs; they'd had this very same conversation about a million times. He wasn't going to put himself through that once more when the only conclusion was more slammed doors and screaming.

"Don't walk away while I'm talking to you," his dad barked as he grabbed him by his shoulder bringing him back to face him.

"I'm done talking to you," John snarled, shrugging away from his father he started for the stairs again.

His dad seized his left wrist, "Well I'm not, and you're going to listen to me."

"Why?" John shouted and pulled away quickly, bumping purposely against the stair rail on his right side and wondering if his dad had caught the act.

"I'm your father."

"Since when?" John roared, disappointment fueling his anger. His mom had noticed, David had noticed, he suspected that even the maid had noticed. He didn't know why he had expected his dad to notice. It wasn't as if the man had taken any interest in John unless there was some sort of repercussion for him.

He quickly turned and stomped up the stairs and to his room.


	8. Chapter 8

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Patrick stood frozen at the foot of the stairs. He had known that he had been ignoring his responsibilities at home but not to the degree that John implied. It wasn't as if he left the boys without care. He had a full time cook and a maid as well as a fully stocked fridge added to the fact that both his boys had enough money in their bank accounts and safes that they wouldn't need to ask him. The house they were staying at wasn't a mansion but he knew others would call it large.

Patrick turned around and found his eldest leaning against the front door. David gave him a sheepish look, "Hey dad."

"What's wrong with your brother?" Patrick was sure that his face still held a bit of shock but he couldn't make himself remove it.

David grimaced but answered after a beat, "Someone bad mouthed mom."

Patrick nodded as sudden anger shot through him, which left as quickly as it came leaving him drained and strangely empty. He sighed and made his way towards the living room. Sitting down in one of the chairs he put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes.

"Where were you two?" he asked, deciding to take more of an interest in what his boys were getting into without him around.

"At the diner across town," David answered swiftly as he leaned against the threshold of the living room and hall way, "we were having a late lunch, early dinner. I didn't think you'd be home tonight."

Patrick sighed and nodded as he sunk into the chair. He hadn't expected to be home tonight.

He was being a terrible father but he didn't know what else to do. All his father had to do was keep food on the table and not hit his kids and he would have been father of the year, or at least qualified for it. It was starting to get so different now. Except he didn't know how to handle it, he didn't know what to do or when to do it.

His wife had always been the connecting factor for him and his boys. Sure he spent time with the boys playing football or whatever sport they were into at the time, but every time he had to go any deeper with his boys, his wife had been behind it.

He didn't think he could do this without instructions. _But when did children ever come with directions?_ he thought grimly to himself.

He cared. He just didn't know what to do.

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_Present - Atlantis _

Rodney spotted John on his way to the mess for a quick lunch. He hadn't seen John at breakfast since Radek had commed him around five that morning to tell him that there was something wrong with the new assistant.

He caught up with John and fell into stride with him, "You won't believe what this idiot did."

"Hi, Rodney," John greeted, "I'm good, thanks for asking. How are you?"

"I'm fine," Rodney answered succinctly, "So anyways, that new guy. What's his name? Simon? Samson? No, Shamu? You know that Indian guy?"

"You mean Shami?" John asked as they walked towards mess.

"I was close," Rodney pointed out, proud that he was starting to match faces and names a tiny bit better, "Well, he found a new power source."

"And how exactly does this make him an idiot?" John questioned.

"You didn't let me finish," Rodney rolled his eyes, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "Simon was in the lower labs, you know the labs that are full of un-activated devices that many of us hadn't gotten around to studying yet? Well, apparently he thought it might be fun to see what some of them do. He activated a new type of generator that we haven't seen before, except now half the lab's been activated and we still don't know why he's passing out every few minutes."

"On the bright side, you guys know that half the lab isn't lethal," John nodded.

"But we do know that something there makes you consistently loose consciousness," Rodney scoffed, "how is that any consolation?"

"At least he's not dead," John shrugged as they entered the mess and got in line.

"He mind as well be with the amount of brain damage he'll have after falling down so many times." Rodney muttered, grabbing a tray and his picking out his food quickly.

"I repeat," John replied with a slight smile, "at least he's not dead."

"I don't think you're getting the point here."

"What's there to get?"

"The man is fainting every few minutes. He wakes up and he passes out. He wakes up and he passes out." Rodney waited for John as he picked out a sandwich before leading them towards their favorite table, "That can't possibly be good for his health."

John let out a small laugh, "Rodney, if I didn't know better, I'd say you care."

"I don't _not_ care," Rodney huffed, setting down his tray and starting on his lunch.

Although Rodney knew that most people considered him oblivious to those around him, Rodney wasn't completely and absolutely oblivious. Or maybe John just wasn't hiding well enough, either way. Rodney had picked up on John's nervousness throughout their chess match. He seemed a little better off today but Rodney wasn't sure what to make of the strange behavior.

They fell into an easy silence. Rodney watched John eat disinterestedly. He could swear that there was something different about how John was eating but that probably would have been weird to call him on. What was he going to say? _You're chewing differently._ Yeah, that was something that normal people say to other normal people.

Was it even normal for him to notice that John was chewing differently?

Last night he had wanted to question John about why he was gripping his thigh so hard that his knuckles turned white, probably even left bruises. He couldn't say exactly why he had held back his comment but he supposed that John had needed a little more time before they could talk about any sort of problem; if John even admitted to a problem, which right now was declared virtually nonexistent.

He had talked to Teyla and Ronon earlier today, at some time during his frantic morning in between disasters when he had to stop and get coffee and some sort of nourishment or collapse. They had a brief chat on John's behavior was which was pretty much code for: _watch him_.

He had wondered if it were typical for friends to converge on matters behind another friend's back but supposed that it was for the better good.


	9. Chapter 9

AN: I have no idea where this story is going, I'm just kinda going with it. And I've had writer's block for the last few days, so you've caught up with me. Next chapter may or may not be on time. Reviews make me think faster. :)

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He still wasn't allowed to go on missions yet, some odd rule about personal issues that could cloud one's judgment while under distress. What a load of crap.

Missions helped him not think, except he knew that was probably what he should do. Sort out the mess in his head before it could mess with the lives of his teammates.

He did have a lot of paperwork to catch up on, which only held his attention about an hour before he had to do something, like get pummeled by Ronon or Teyla. Except he couldn't because today Ronon and Teyla were with Lorne's team renegotiating a trade agreement that he hadn't bothered to look too deeply at, and they wouldn't be back for another few hours, which led him to wonder the halls after he had taken a long run only to be caught by Rodney and dragged to lunch. He supposed he could have just walked off but he wanted the company and Rodney was ranting again and he always did find it amusing.

John was half way through his sandwich when he caught Rodney giving him another annoying glance. He quirked his eyebrow up, "What?"

"Nothing," Rodney said hurriedly and stuffed jello into his mouth.

John let it go, he didn't want to start off a conversation he couldn't finish.

"It's just that…" Rodney trailed as he gathered his thoughts.

Damn it McKay, just couldn't leave well enough alone. John sighed, leaned back against his chair, and crossed his arms, right over left, "Spill it."

"It's just that we've been noticing something off with you," Rodney started uncertainly, "and we just wanted to make sure that you weren't taken over by crazy aliens hell bent on the destruction of man kind."

John couldn't hold back his snort, glad and surprised that this wasn't going to be the emotional heart to heart that Teyla kept trying to get him to have with her. He uncrossed his arms and crossed them again, left over right, as he lowered his voice seriously, "Your pathetic race shall be destroyed soon, Dr. Rodney McKay."

Rodney glanced up, confusion in his eyes that cleared instantly replaced by annoyance, "Funny."

A few moments passed with Rodney berating him on how much of an idiot he could be and how his hair got in the way of how his brain worked. John grinned the whole time.

"Rodney," John called as the astrophysicist finally stopped for air, "I'll _be_ fine."

If Rodney had noticed then it was apparent to all his friends that he wasn't fine, that there was something bothering him, so he mind as well stop fighting what they clearly knew. Didn't mean he would admit to anything specific though.

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_1982 – Earth _

He had expected too much. Why did he expect so much?

He should have lowered his standards when he realized his father had only thought of him in terms of his future worth. He should have known that his father would always disappoint him. Because nothing he did ever measured up.

Sure he got the brains but he never put them to use, not like David. David put all his resources to use and he always gave into their father's demands. Study, work, stay out of trouble, listen to those who know better. What was better?

Better wasn't best. He knew best. What was best for him was never what his dad thought was best. He was sure of that. This wasn't some sort of teenage rebellion thing because he did listen to his parents. He thought out what they said but what his dad wants for him isn't the kind of life he wanted to lead. He didn't want to be stuck behind a desk for the rest of his life. He didn't like the inactivity and the mind games that people play.

He wanted to be apart of something bigger, he wanted to help the world and do something with his life. And maybe there was just something wrong with him but he felt like he had a calling that he hadn't found yet.

He wished his mom was here. She would have known what to do, or at the very least known what to say to him to get him to feel better. His father had always been strict about grades and school but his mom knew when to balance time out with trips and games.

He straightened out his bed, running his hands over the covers a few times before he caught what he was doing. He turned around stiffly and dropped to the floor. Sitting against the foot of his bed he ran his hands through his hair, left then right.

He could stop, he could. Once he stopped thinking and concentrated, he could ignore it.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: So I'm pretty new to this fandom, about two months. For some reason I watched the season 4 finale so of course I had to go back and watch most of the episodes and before that the only episode I watched was 38 minutes (which was really weird because I saw it in five different parts, from various points during the episode and I couldn't understand why I could only catch this one episode on tv). But about the story, I think I got my second win, so I'll write out everything before I start to stop obsessing over this show. And I'm sorry if anyone seems out of character, I pride myself on keeping characters in character.

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David slipped upstairs as his father contemplated… whatever parents thought about after their kid yelled at them for never being a _parent_. Probably it was something that would get him and John in trouble.

That had been the most he had spoken to the man in three months, which was sad since he really hadn't said much. But maybe this was the beginning. Maybe he didn't have to keep face just so that his brother and father could have their private yet simultaneous breakdowns anymore.

He knocked lightly on John's door before entering and found his brother sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed. His legs pulled up tight against his chest and head resting on his knees to block out the rest of the world.

David quietly dropped down next to him. He watched the sun stream through window as they sat in silence. "Dad thinks we went to the diner so if you get hungry, eat later."

John showed no reaction. David sighed and rested his elbows behind him on the bed. He ruffled the messy hair knowing full well what the argument between his brother and father had been about. "He needs time, Johnny."

His brother still showed no reaction but a slight trembled showed that he was at least listening. David continued as the silence persisted, "He's still getting over mom."

At that, John shifted and leaned back to rest against the bed. "What about you?"

"Me?" David hadn't expected that. He had thought that John was too wrapped up in his own problems to notice anyone else's.

"Yes, you." John grinned which almost instantly turned into a frown, "You know, you never talk about her."

David swallowed and nodded, his voice was shaky, "I-I still think she's going to bang on my door every morning."

He was never going to see her again. God, he was _never_ going to see her again.

"Yeah," John dropped his head back down, "me too."

He wasn't sure how much time had passed with them sitting there blankly staring off into space, but the patch of sunlight on the floor had changed from a clear gold to a deep orange.

"Do you remember?" John's soft question cut through the silence.

He remembered, he just never thought. It was too hard to think. Thinking required him to realize that she was never coming back. But that felt undeniably untrue because she was still in the backyard reading a romance novel or in the kitchen making them a small snack or in the next room writing a letter to their grandmother, in the living room flipping through a catalogue. She was behind every closed door and every turned corner. She was right there.

But she wasn't.

He nodded anyways, knowing that John would just somehow know that he was agreeing even without looking.

"Remember last summer," John murmured, "dad got called to Tokyo and we got to stay in Santa Barbara?"

"How could I forget?" David couldn't help but smile though he swallowed hard at the same time, his voice cracking, "Sun, surf, and girls."

It had been John's first time surfing. The first time he could see the rip curls from inside where the crystal blue-green water could pull you into another world, instead of just watching them crash onto the beach as white foam. Mom had taught David at John's age. Then it had been John's turn to learn.

John suddenly laughed, "Did you have to try out all those pick up lines?"

"Seemed like a good idea." David let out a breathy sigh, "Did you have to wipe out so many times?"

"Three times," John stressed and punched his leg, "that's not a lot."

"Whatever you say, Johnny-boy."

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_Present – Atlantis _

From what Teyla could gather, without bringing up too much suspicion from Keller, OCD was some sort of disorder of the mind, Keller was about to go more in depth but she got pulled away as SGA-4 came in hot.

She had walked slowly out of the infirmary, her post mission exam complete. She was hungry but she wanted to wash off the dirt from the mission. Deciding that she would pick up a snack before she showered, she took an abrupt turn to the mess but bumped into Rodney. She had smiled and muttered a greeting as Rodney apologized.

She was still curious so she questioned Rodney about OCD. The scientist had rambled off symptoms, plausible causes, signs, and something about biological abnormalities when suddenly a light went on in his eyes. Rodney had figured it out.

She should have known that the scientist would have. John would realize that Rodney knew and that she was the only one who could get him to notice. But it wasn't like she did it on purpose. At least she hadn't meant to do it on purpose, which was why she was now standing outside of John's quarters waiting for the man to open up so that she could apologize for giving him away to Rodney.

"Hey Telya," John nodded and motioned inside, "I'm guessing you're here to try again?"

She had only asked him once after his disappearance yesterday, but leave it to John to up the numbers.

"Not exactly," Teyla smiled a little nervously as she slipped into John's quarters.

"What is it?" John frowned.

"I may have inadvertently lead Dr. McKay to believe that you have OCD."

John sighed resignedly and ran his hands through his hair separately, "He would have figured it out eventually."

She hadn't thought that John would have gotten mad but she was nervous about it anyways. She moved towards his bed and sat down; John trailed behind slowly and sat down at his desk facing her.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: AP testing is coming up, so if I'm late with this uploading stuff, its cause I'm being a good girl and _actually _studying, not my fake studying when I sit in front of my lap top with a book open on my lap. Looks real though.

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"You are not angry with me?" Teyla broke through his thoughts and he looked her dead in the eyes.

"No," John was a little surprised, "Why would I be?"

Teyla smiled the smile that seemed to say that she knew exactly what goes on in his head.

John shrugged and changed topics, "How was the mission?"

"As expected," Teyla answered with a sigh, "they were very agreeable."

"You don't sound too happy," he shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position.

"I'm just a little tired." Teyla leaned back, her arms behind her to support her weight.

"Told you not to go," John stopped at that because even while pregnant, _most especially when pregnant_, women should not be antagonized.

Teyla frowned at him, knowing his full meaning but she knew there was concern and not judgment, so he felt relatively safe.

He wasn't exactly sure when his OCD started. Maybe sometime during first grade because he clearly remembers walking home from the park and how he had to take even steps between the lines while counting as he tapped his fingertips against the fence every four steps, his other hand would tap against nothing every two steps but he had to make up for the difference somehow or else…he wasn't sure. He just always knew he had to follow some weird set of rules that he never entirely understood but made sense.

But he had learned, it had taken him years but he had learned how to control it.

He would let some things slide by, like licking his lips or randomly touching things because they were small enough not to be noticed by anyone. They could be counted as just normal movements. Chewing he wasn't so sure about. Really it might have been how he was eating. He knew he had switched off hands last night but he didn't expect Rodney to notice. Because no one ever does. Not the small things and eating should have been one of them.

If he had a full on thing like what he used to do with doors, which was impossible now, then he would have understood how Rodney noticed. But this was Rodney and unless some sort of disaster by divine miracle hit him full in the face, the man didn't notice anything.

Except he did. As did Ronon and Teyla which meant that he had people who knew him as well as he knew himself. Scary.

"How are you, John?" Teyla asked genuinely.

He was starting to hate that question but he muttered that he was fine as he pulled out his DVD player and set it on his desk. They watched _Elf _because even though it was no where near Christmas, who didn't like the idea of traveling though the Candy Cane Forest and talking to snowmen?

Teyla wanted him to talk but he was still gathering his thoughts. He wanted to tell her everything, maybe that way she would know that he would be all right and stop pestering him about this because nothing was bothering him.

After the movie they went to the mess and picked up some ice cream before heading towards the closest balcony. They leaned against the rail and stared up at the Lantain night sky as they opened their cheap wanna-be Drumsticks.

"It's not so hard," John said suddenly as he stared up at the stars.

He felt Teyla's eyes sweep over him before looking back at the dark sea.

"I mean, its not so hard now," John took a bite of the outer chocolate shell and let it melt in his mouth, "It used to be really hard. Now, not so much."

Teyla nodded and asked, "What is it like?"

"What's it like to feel the Wraith?" John countered, not willing for this whole conversation to be about him.

"I asked first," Teyla smirked.

"Fine," John sighed and frowned, "It's like…well, kinda…"

He paused, he remembered he had told his brother so many years ago but he couldn't remember how he phrased it. And it was different now, since he didn't have to resist as much.

"It's like…well first off, I don't really know how to describe it exactly. But say you see a Wraith coming at you, your first reaction is to kill it or run, right?"

At Teyla's nod John continued, "Well that impulse to fight or run is pretty strong. I mean, you won't just stand there, you have to do something. So take that reaction to fight or run and apply it to how..." John paused, this was really weird to explain. "How you walk for example but this time you don't fight or run, you take an even number of steps."

Teyla remained silent and John supposed that she didn't know what to say. So he kept going, "Okay, maybe that's not the best analogy out there but..."

He shrugged and hoped that Teyla understood, "It's not a big deal, don't worry."

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_Earth – 1982_

David wanted him to go to a shrink. John wanted David to shut the hell up and deal with his own problems before sticking his nose into John's.

No less than a week and his brother had found a new guy to go to. David kept trying to convince him that this time would be different and it would actually help because this time David checked with the school and they recommended the shrink. Which means now all the teachers knew, at least he could trust them not to spread it around too much.

John believed him but he didn't want the help. He could handle this, he wanted to do this alone because he didn't need anyone else to tell him how screwed up it was to _have_ to walk through a door a certain way because something would happen if he didn't.

But that something may never happen and it was crazy to believe that that something would because that something wasn't even defined as anything. It was just a feeling, a compulsion that pushed at him until he complied and then kept pushing him until he went off some unclear edge.

Except he could put up a defense, he could beat the feeling which was hard but not impossible.

He started to touch things unevenly and forced himself to stop counting steps, no matter how weird it made him feel because he had a lot of things to think about and counting just took all that away.

Counting took it away.

It was uncontrollable and when he did it he didn't have to think, didn't have to remember that when he got home his mom wasn't going to ask him how his day was and force him into helping her make dinner. Then he wouldn't have to remember making dessert and throwing an egg at her because she had spread frosting all over his cheek. He wouldn't remember the soft hum of the radio in the background as he did his homework at the kitchen table distracted by the click of spoons and clatter of pots and pans. He wouldn't have to remember letting her down when he didn't notice that she was getting sick.

Damn it, was this what it was like to stop? He would actually start to realize things. If it was then it might be easier to just give in to impulse, at least that way he didn't have thoughts. But that would also mean giving up control and giving himself over to something that was merciless and demanding and willing to take everything he ever had.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Hopefully I got the timing right. And hope that this will do for now because reality is taking up more of my time than normal.

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Patrick was trying. Or at least he thought he was trying. He was home three nights this week and when he realized how surprised his boys were, he tried to ignore the thought that they didn't need him. But sitting in front of the TV as his boys were in their respective rooms he couldn't help but think.

They didn't need him. He was gone so often that they can function without him and they expected him to _not_ be there.

When did it happen?

He knew he had buried himself under work and his company but he had thought that he still had a place in his boys' lives. Apparently that was untrue. Both of them didn't know what to say to him and their dinners were anything but comfortable.

Should he even try to fix it? Sure doing nothing wouldn't fix anything but it was appealing. He could continue working until he was exhausted, coming home to a silent and dark house, and leaving after a few hours of sleep and a change of clothes.

He turned off the television and made his way quietly upstairs. He would give this another try; maybe he would figure out a way to salvage his status as a parent.

He went to David's room first, intent with finding out how well his eldest was fairing before dealing with John.

Knocking on the door made it swing open to an empty room. Patrick frowned, he had hoped to find out what was going on with David and see if anything the kid said would help him with John. He sighed and walked towards John's room. He stopped before he could push open the door, hearing hushed voices in what seemed to be an argument.

Eavesdropping was probably not the best way to start being a father, but screw it he was failing anyways.

"Johnny, goddamn it. Just do it."

"Nice comeback, Dave."

"Look, just meet the guy."

"I thought we went over this."

David groaned and muttered a string of curses that Patrick felt lucky not to have heard clearly.

"Oh so helpful, Dave. And not even a bit convincing."

"Dude, I swear I will tie you to the fricking dashboard and drag you there."

"Am I supposed to believe that's a threat? Like you could even catch me."

"Come on, Johnny-boy. You may be fast, but you're as scrawny as an underfed chicken, I can take you down like that." David snapped his fingers.

Patrick leaned against the doorframe, on the side where he knew his boys wouldn't catch his shadow. He heard a thump as someone was tackled to the floor, swift movement, and moving furniture. He was about to rush in to stop the fight when he heard his boys laughing. The same laugh that they had when they were younger, carefree and full of life, the one he seldom heard because he was barely ever around.

"You fight like a sissy!"

"I do not, jerk!"

He didn't know if his boys were having an argument or not anymore. It sounded like one, on the surface but he could hear something more in the way they talked. His boys had a connection and he thought they weren't even getting along.

He heard whispers, like the boys just remembered that their father was home and was now being extra quiet and he contemplated walking away, letting them have their private moment that he was clearly intruding on but David started talking.

"Just one more time, for me, please Johnny."

"I'm not seeing another stupid shrink."

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_Atlantis – present _

Two weeks after coming back from Earth and three weeks since Sheppard's father's wake, Ronon noticed that Sheppard was starting to act somewhat more like his usual self. There was less tension in his movements but that lazy way he leaned against anything that could support his weight was still missing.

Ronon supposed it could have something to do with McKay, Carter, and Jennifer missing their check in but with Sheppard really it could be a number of things. He watched his friend pace from one end of the control room to the other and Ronon had an almost irresistible urge to hold out his arm and wait for Sheppard to run into it.

He almost grinned at the thought but realized that now was probably not the best time to smile. On Sheppard's 30-something-ith trip, he stopped in front of Ronon and asked him one of those 'rhetorical' questions that Ronon never really understood. Why waste your breath?

So Ronon grunted, even if he wasn't really listening he still got the idea of what Sheppard said. He was a little worried as well, not that he would ever admit it, and when Sheppard ordered a team to ready themselves to go find and retrieve the three missing members, Ronon almost ran into the gate room. It was more of a sprint if he gave any thought to it but he'd rather consider it a quick jog.

They found McKay, Carter, and Jennifer not far from the gate and with the exception Carter's leg, they were fine. Even if McKay didn't agree with him on that.

As the medics loaded up Carter, he hung back and walked a slower pace with Jennifer and McKay, who was still loudly complaining to anyone who would listen. When McKay finally started to mutter to himself, Ronon asked Jennifer how she was and then she started to tell him about everything that happened to her since she fell down a hole like an 'Alice in Wonderland' except without the talking animals.

"How are things back on Atlantis?" McKay broke into their small conversation and Ronon glared down at McKay, wondering if the man knew that he was trying to accomplish something here.

He grunted a nonessential noise to McKay and continued his talk with Jennifer, the scientist must have understood because for the rest of the trip, McKay kept mostly quiet.

After Ronon had his post exam he said a small good bye to Jennifer, who made him promise to drop by her quarters later so that they could watch some movie or other. As he headed towards the door, he caught sight of McKay, still sitting on a table staring at his bandaged hands. He gave the scientist a grin and fully intended on going to the mess but McKay waved him over.

Ronon crossed his arms and waited for McKay to speak.

"How's Sheppard?" McKay asked after a moment of silence.

Ronon grunted, unsure as to where McKay was leading with this.

"Well, that was productive," McKay groused, "Tell me, when you 'talk' with Keller, does she let you get away with bodily functions?"

Ronon gave McKay his best death glare, which on his many travels have made some men wet their pants, except the only effect it had on McKay was to make the scientist cringe and hurry an explanation.

"Fine," McKay sighed, "I'm only asking because Sheppard gave me reason to doubt his amazing ability to keep himself in any sort of stable health."

That caught Ronon's attention so he waited for McKay to continue with his rant because if Ronon waited he knew that McKay would spill everything.

"Remember that talk we had a while ago?" McKay was trying to make his normal hand gestures, but the bandages were distracting. "Well apparently, Sheppard went and got himself OCD. Okay, so maybe he can't go out and get OCD but he's got it."

Ronon shrugged in reply. Drawing a blank on what this OCD thing was because it couldn't be that bad, Sheppard was still his own annoying self.

McKay sighed and drooped his head in a moment of exasperation, "I just wanted you to keep an eye out for him; he's being kinda weird and less relaxed than normal around me."

Ronon nodded, arms crossed over his chest, and was about to turn to leave when McKay started talking again.

"Ever since I talked to him about it, he's been acting weird around me. Have you noticed?"

Ronon glanced at the door, he wanted to hear the end of McKay's rant but he was hungry.

"All right, so maybe you didn't notice," McKay muttered, "but the point is that he didn't have to get all…" McKay made a fluttery wave, "…with me. All I did was ask a few questions. You know, try to be a good friend and listen."

Ronon couldn't hold back a smile, there was no way that McKay could listen without his own brand of input.


	13. Chapter 13

AN: Last chapter before the end, which may suck as an ending but I feel that I've finished this story.

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John snuck into the mess hall after he made sure that Rodney was occupied. He spotted Ronon at their usual table and headed over.

Slipping into the seat next to the larger man, which coincidently concealed him from the main door, he grinned at his friend. "Hey, Ronon, what's up?"

"Sheppard," Ronon looked up from his pile of food.

John thought there was something extra in the glance that Ronon gave him but he decided to not bother it. Ronon would never willingly get into a talk with him. Rodney on the other hand…

For the last two days, he had been avoiding the astrophysicist. He knew that Rodney had good intentions but annoying the hell out of him wasn't going to help any. All those questions and John had valiantly put up with them in the beginning, talking (mostly) honestly with Rodney but after the 20th time Rodney had tried to convince him to talk to the new psychologist, John stood up and walked out.

"How's McKay doing?" John asked because he still hasn't seen Rodney, but he was worried and he knew that by nightfall he would have to see Rodney.

"Fine," Ronon said in between bites of food.

John nodded and snatched a muffin off Ronon's tray. He normally wouldn't do something like that because he was somewhat frightened of Ronon killing him but right now he was too damn tired.

He wasn't sure why Rodney had to make such a big deal out of things. Its not like he needed help, he was fine. Actually and perfectly fine. Even if he could never get used to it, he could live with it.

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_Earth – 1982 _

His door slammed open, banging against the wall and bouncing half way closed again. His father stormed into the room and marched towards him, anger radiating off of him in waves.

"A shrink," his dad said darkly, "you went to a shrink."

John jumped up from his bed and squared off with his father almost immediately as David moved softly in between but off to the side of them. "Ye-"

"My son can't be a freaking nut-case," his father closed the distance between them, almost in his face.

"I'm not-" John began angrily as a hand pushed itself between him and his father forcing him back as David slipped in between them.

"Not what? Crazy? Insane? Out of your _freaking_ mind?" his father leaned forward but David blocked the way, "Answer me, boy!"

"I made Johnny go." David admitted strongly when he caught his father's eyes. He glanced back to ensure that John was safely behind him. John gave his brother a tight smile but decided to let David take care of this. At least with David on his side, there was a chance that the argument wouldn't end with him being disowned.

His father muttered something intelligible and stepped away from them, pacing back and forth he ran his hand tiredly through his hair as if deciding what he should do. Finally, his father looked David in the eyes and rumbled, "Why?"

"Because," David replied coolly, "he needs help."

"I don't need-" John piped up, but let his voice fade as he realized that this fight was between his father and his brother, even if the fight was about him.

"He doesn't need help." His dad growled.

"Of course he needs help; he's just too goddamn stubborn to take it." David countered, still somewhat reasonably.

"He doesn't have a problem," his father irritably insisted.

"How would you know?"

John carefully accessed his father's expression. The man sucked in a breath that seemed to catch in his chest and he closed his eyes then stayed still. John moved around David so he could stand off to the side, he was a witness and that was such a change that the fact alone could keep him stunned for the next half hour.

"John's right," David chuckled humorously, "you're never around."

"I'm doing this for you." His father explained, "I'm-"

"Don't give me that crap," David spat, "You know what you're doing."

His father remained silent, his gaze leveled off somewhere beyond David's shoulders.

"God, Dad," David sighed, the anger poured off him leaving a desperately tired voice, "I can't do this anymore."

David turned and left the room quietly.

John had always thought that his dad and David had the perfect relationship. David never got yelled at and if he ever got in trouble his dad would just have a few patient words with his brother and all would be well in their world.

John backed against the wall and glanced at his father, he felt odd to be in there alone with his dad but it was his room and he'd be damned if he left it.

His father stood frozen to the spot, his eyes resting on the floor as if it contained all the answers to the universe.

David was his dad's favorite, John knew that. Knew it since he was nine when his dad had picked his brother over him to go to Europe with for three months, his dad had left without so much as a goodbye but David had grinned at him and told him that he would call. He knew it again when his dad picked David to be at the opening ceremony of the international branch of the company in Hong Kong. Learned it once more when his father had told a newspaper reporter at length about what David had achieved and only mentioned John once in an off handed comment.

At last, his father realized where he was and swiftly left. John almost sighed in relief. He wasn't sure if he could hold still for much longer. His mind kept showing him images of David crashing into another car, driving off a cliff, pieces of debris lining an open stretch of lonely road.

He needed to move, to do something to keep himself from seeing that stuff. He ran his hands through his hair, each hand separately and started to smooth his bed sheets. He straightened out the few things on his desk and made sure everything in his drawers were in their correct positions. With that done he went into the hall way and pulled out the vacuum. He pushed it into his room and unraveled the cord, plugged it in and started vacuuming.


	14. Chapter 14

AN: That was fun. Join me next time for a ripping good time…or whatever. I might continue the 1982 story line, not sure yet.

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David knew he shouldn't leave those two alone in the house for any period of time. He could come back and there might be yellow police tape everywhere with blood splattered all over the windows but he knew that was a little extreme and he just needed to get out.

He jumped into his car and was off before he could put on his seat belt correctly. He drove around for hours, aimlessly headed towards the coast and then towards the mountains. When he felt ready to fall asleep he stopped at a 24-hour diner had a small order of eggs and toast and lots of coffee and headed back home.

Although it was dark, he could still tell that something was wrong. Or maybe because it so much darker than it was supposed to be. The street lights fell on his house, giving it an eerie glow and illuminating an open front door.

David yanked out his keys and ran into his house. If there were robbers then he would have disturbed a crime scene and it was insane to have such a thought at that moment because all he wanted to know was if his brother and father were all right.

The house was just as dark inside was it was outside. He passed through all the rooms on the first floor, turning on all the lights as he went. He wanted to call out but he was afraid to know that he was alone.

He climbed to the second story and flipped on the hall light. Everything was still neatly in its place. Whatever happened, he knew it wasn't a robbery. Thieves don't care for niceties.

He gently pushed open John's door to find his little brother sitting in a familiar position on the floor at the foot of his bed. David flipped on the lights and glanced around the room.

The vacuum lay abandoned on the floor, tipped over sideways with cords splayed around like guts. The covers on a normally immaculate bed were oddly ruffled and the carefully placed possessions on the bed stand were scattered on the floor.

Wrong, something was very, very wrong.

David knelt down by his brother, "Johnny…"

"Dad's gone." John mumbled, his face still buried against his knees.

"John," David rubbed the back of his brother's neck, "look at me."

For a moment, for an eternity as fear ate at him and tried to drown him, John didn't respond. Then slowly John uncurled and leaned against the bed. David couldn't hold back a gasp.

Dried blood trailed down the corner of John's lips and the beginnings of a large bruise covered most of his right side.

John sighed and pulled his knees to chest again while David plopped down next to his little brother.

"He heard the vacuum going," John started before David could ask what happened, "you know how he gets with that stuff."

David nodded, dad had always thought that menial work was below them. Dad heard the noise and found John, inevitably that would lead to a fight except this time it turned physical. It had never been physical before, always verbal but with the consistent edge of something being held back.

He never thought it could come to that. Guilt drenched him, his brother got hurt because he wasn't around to protect him. He had thought it was safe to leave his brother at home, alone with their father. But it didn't matter anymore.

Two hours later, with John tucked away for the night, the phone rang. David picked it up before it completed its first ring, afraid that it would wake his brother.

"Hello," he almost whispered.

Silence and a slight bit of static came back over the line but David already knew who it would be.

"Sorry," his dad croaked, "I didn't mean to."

_I'm not the one you should be apologizing to!_ He wanted to scream, yell, and vent to the heavens. But instead he waited because there had to be something more than that.

"Take care of him," his father paused, "I'll be back soon."

A click signaled the end of the call and David had to remember to take in a breath when he started to see spots in his vision.

He could do this on his own, he didn't want to but he could if he… if he… No, no, no…

He was only 18 and he couldn't be expected to look after his 15 year old brother. This wasn't right. He didn't have what it took to look after someone else; he could barely look after himself at this point. This wasn't fair. His mother should still be alive and well because she was a good person and good people don't deserve to slowly fade like that. Why did she have to die? He wasn't ready to face the world without her yet. His father should be here, now, taking responsibility and not off thinking about the business because he can't deal with reality.

He took a deep breath in and realized he was still clutching the phone. He exhaled and put the phone back in it's cradle. He could do this. He had to do this.

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_Atlantis – present _

Rodney sat in his room, staring uselessly at his laptop. He was going to have to create some sort of program that would let him work without his hands. Of course, he would have to wait until he could use his hands before he could write the program but hell that was the whole point.

"How're the hands?" John asked. Rodney jumped; he hadn't even noticed that his door had opened.

"Annoying the hell out of me," Rodney replied honestly, "I can't do anything for at least a month."

John scowled at him, clearly not believing him.

"Keller said I should be as good as new in a week and her magic crystal ball told her to tell me to stay away from activities that included my hands." Rodney admitted, with a roll of his eyes.

John grinned, "Too bad," and after a beat of silence asked, "Want to get In-N-Out?"

"What?" Rodney questioned.

"In-N-Out," John repeated, "the SGC just shipped over a huge order and we better hurry, that stuff flies."

"This is the first time I'm hearing about this," Rodney stated, usually he knew all about the different food shipments and 'treats' that the SGC sent once a week.

John beamed proudly, "I told everyone that you were allergic to the dressing."

"What? Why?" Rodney scowled, even though he had no idea what In-N-Out was, he should have at least been informed by someone.

"I told 'em that you almost died and you sued the company but lost the case so you've sworn to take revenge on anyone who eats their products. And then someone gave people the impression that you've made a chemical that can instantly turn a burger deadly." John continued, "We came to the mutual agreement that no one would talk to you about it."

"What's so special about it?" Rodney frowned.

John looked surprised then shook his head and muttered almost in awe, "You've really never had one."

Rodney rolled his eyes.

"McKay, if I knew that you seriously never had one, I would have never, ever done that." John sighed as if that was the saddest thing in the universe, grabbed his arm, and pulled him out the door, "I'm so sorry."

"You act like you just killed my cat," Rodney snatched his arm away from John and looked at him suspiciously, "Is my cat dead?"

"What?" John exclaimed, "No…well, how should I know? You'll see what I mean when you have one."

Rodney nodded and they started to the mess in an awkward silence. It was so much easier just to keep talking about nothing. Social situations were, to say in the least, not his forte but that didn't mean Rodney didn't have to face them.

"Why won't you just go and see the psychologist?" Rodney blurted, the quiet getting to him at last.

"Rodney, we talked about this already." John whined, "I don't need help."

"How do you expect me to believe that?" Rodney was sure his voice went a little high at the end of the sentence but he continued, "There are certain things that you-"

"Rodney," John warned.

"Just listen for a sec," Rodney pressed, "This is serious and could be detrimental to everything on Atlantis and you know everything on Atlantis affects me. How could you just leave this alone? What if the military found out? Don't you think that we should have known?"

"Jeez, Rodney, don't work your self up over this."

"Sheppard this isn't something to take lightly-"

"Sure it is, McKay." John assured. "Believe me when I say that."

"Oh, this coming from the man who has martyr-like tendencies," Rodney accused.

"I don't have martyr-like tendencies."

"You do too."

"I do not."

"Do too."

"Do not," John insisted, "Name me one time."

"Whe-" Rodney stopped in the middle of the hallway and closed his eyes, John was distracting him. Bastard. "John…"

John crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, "Didn't hurt to try."

Rodney nodded, he had to agree with his suicidal friend there.

"Rodney, I swear I'm fine," Sheppard said, "I was doing all right before wasn't I?"

"Mmm…" Rodney wasn't exactly sure what to say. Sure John kept the city safe but the costs seemed were sometimes too high to him.

"Look, McKay," John sighed, "It's not a problem for me, I can control it."

"How?" Rodney questioned.

"I-I…" John ran his hands through his hair (one at a time Rodney noted), "I don't know, I did it when I was younger."

Rodney was doubtful, he didn't say anything but something must have shown on his face.

"Damn it, McKay," John said exasperatedly, "Fine, when I was younger I started my own treatment plan. Okay? Maybe it seems insane that a kid can realize and fix a psychological problem without ever even realizing it but I did."

Rodney nodded as John looked at him, understanding that John was serious. John had overcome whatever this was by himself, it might not have been the right way but it was done.

"I can control it, just trust me, it won't get in the way." John turned and started waking down the hall again.

Rodney quickly caught up and muttered angrily, "I trust you."

John turned away from him but Rodney was sure that he was hiding a smile. "Its useful sometimes." John said as they continued their walk.

"How so?" Rodney was curious, how did someone like John Sheppard turn OCD into something useful.

"Makes me think about possible outcomes."

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_Epilogue: Atlantis – a few weeks later _

John smiled to himself, for the last three days he had been able to keep the compulsions at bay without a drop of effort. He'd get the occasional thought that something might go wrong but that only made him a better military commander since the thought was practical and it made him operate more cautiously.

"Sheppard!" Rodney called through the door, "I know you're in there!"

Rodney pounded on the door again, waiting for John to answer. He waited for the thoughtless remark before swishing the door open.

"This better be life or death, Rodney," John growled in greeting.

Rodney answered by grabbing John's arm and pulling the colonel into the hallway towards his lab, "I've just found the most amazing thing, and I need you to turn it on."

John muttered about being a good for nothing light switch and Rodney grinned.

THE END


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